The Devil Makes a Deal (with Everyone)
by Annienonmouse94
Summary: Oswald agrees, in no mans land, to help Jim catch Jeremiah. Jeremiah also wants to collect some favors from Oswald, and is willing to do whatever it takes to have the former kingpin on his side in the upcoming war. Edward tries desperately to insert himself in the conflict, jealous that no one is validating his schemes. (Set after Season 4. Oswald paired with all three.)
1. Chapter 1

It was no Iceberg Lounge, but Oswald made due for the time being. The lights flickered from the power of the generators, he wondered if soon those would be a commodity more precious than money in this no-mans land.

"Sir, Jim Gordon is here." A voice announced, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Let him in." He tried not to make it obvious how surprised he was to hear that name.

"Oswald. I was glad to hear you were okay."

"I doubt that very much. Already needing a favor, detective? It's only been a week since Valeska blew up the bridges and already you find yourself at my door." He sneered a little despite the familiar and weak flitting of his heart at the sight of the other man.

"I do. I also brought you something to help sell you on my request." Jim held up a bottle of expensive-looking red wine. "Does the fact that I'm being honest endear me at all?" He forced a smile.

"No. In fact I always found your unwavering honesty pretty bad for business. But, please, sit my old friend. I will hear you out despite my better judgement."

Jim sat and Oswald waved a tall man over to take the bottle and pour it into two small glasses. He handed his to the tall man and another to Jim, who declined at first and then gave in on Oswald's insistence. After about a minute or two of waiting, the tall man nodded, and Oswald took his drink back.

"This is a fine wine, Jim. I wasn't aware that you had this kind of taste." He smiled in admiration while sipping and swishing the wine around in the glass. "Did you buy it just for me or is it a leftover from dear Lee Thompkins?" Jim ignored how the name brought a slight sneer to Oswald's otherwise cheerful expression.

"A leftover." he admitted sheepishly. "Does that change anything?"

"No, I should think not. I was just curious."

They sat in silence for what seemed like a long time. Sipping and sighing. Oswald was reluctant to break the spell, as he had been excessively lonely this week without Butch or Edward or - well anyone really. Still, he finally coughed and straightened himself out in his chair.

"So. A favor?"

"Yes, sorry. Yes, a favor." Jim leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs, face earnest.

"I need you to help me find Jeremiah Valeska." He finally said, slowly and carefully. "Last I heard, you and he weren't exactly friends. Is that still the case?"

"He tried to blow up the city, with me in it. So no, we aren't exactly friends." Oswald huffed.

"So you'll help me? I need you to be my eyes and ears in this area. Barbara refuses to meet with me, Firefly and Freeze are more interested in fighting with each other, and Ed-"

"I'll help. I'll tell you what I can, when I can. You need to give me something in return, though. This can't be like it was back then, where you ask me for favors and never repay."

Jim balked a little "This is a mutually beneficial favor. You can't rule Gotham if there's nothing left to rule."

"You've used that one before." Oswald replied darkly, thinking of being abandoned on a blimp over the river. "All I'm asking is that if you see one of my thugs running errands, you look the other way. Is that so hard to do while you focus on larger problems? I don't think I'm asking to much of you, my friend." He finished off his glass, the wine leaving his head swimming. He never could hold his drinks.

Jim's face lost the open expression it had moments ago. Oswald was almost sad to see it go. He didn't really enjoy using Jim's morals to torture him anymore, but business was business. He couldn't just do favors for people he was attracted to anymore. He wouldn't. Besides, with a vigilante running around, he didn't need Jim Gordon arresting his men trying to be a one-man police force in Gotham city.

"Jim, who will even know? The GCPD needs to be rebuilt, and Gotham is in shambles. This favor is more of a show of loyalty for me than anything else. I need to know we're in this together, that I'm not just a tool for you to use and discard again." He was stunned at how needy and vulnerable his voice suddenly sounded.

After setting his unfinished glass down on the table to his left, Jim stared at the floor. His hands were clasped tightly together, and Oswald let him think about whatever his was thinking about while he waived the tall man back to pout him a second glad of wine. He could see in the glass a light reflection of himself. His lips were red from the drink. Self-consciously he hoped his teeth were not.

"Fine Oswald. I'll leave your men alone. We meet once every two weeks and you tell me what you've heard."

"Fair enough." He nodded a polite little smile in Jim's direction. The prospect of working with Jim again excited him a little.

"If you don't have any new information then the deal is off." Jim was all business now; any semblance of friendliness was gone.

Oswald nodded. "Were you really glad to hear I was okay? Or were you just glad you could have an informant again?" He wanted it to be mocking, but the question came out sincere.

Jim stood up, Oswald followed suit. They shook hands, but Jim's hand lingered longer than expected.

"I've never wanted you dead Oswald. Even when sparing you caused me so much trouble, I never truly wanted you dead."

Their eyes softened, looking at each other and remembering when things were a little simpler. When Jim was the good guy, and Oswald was a wannabe kingpin and the biggest fight was taking down Fish and Maroni. Jim reluctantly let go of Oswald's hand.

"Two weeks, friend." Oswald called to him as he left, Jim grunted in response.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two weeks and all Oswald had heard about Jeremiah was that he had a plan that involved Bruce Wayne and that he was working to gather people into the "Red Hood" gang once again.

It wasn't much, but it's not like he had promised Jim he would actively be searching for the maniac, only that he would keep his eyes and ears open, and so he had.

"Oswald." Jim nodded, sitting down. He offered a coffee and Oswald gratefully took it.

Jim's apartment was more dilapidated that the one he had visited so long ago. Certainly, a downgrade. The kitchen was scrubbed but still looked dirty, Oswald chanced a closer look at the kitchen table they were sitting at before sighing and resting his elbows on it.

He told Jim what he knew. Jim looked a little frustrated but nodded. "That's not a lot to go off of, but it's better than I've been able to gather." He smiled tersely. "Thanks."

"Is that it?" Oswald frowned. He hadn't expected their little meeting to be over so fast.

"What else is there?"

"I don't know. Nothing, I suppose." He looked down at his mug. "Can I finish this coffee though?"

"Oh. Yes, of course."

The coffee was too hot to gulp so he was forced to sip it.

"For some reason I thought you didn't like coffee." Jim said quietly after a few minutes.

"I acquired a taste for it when I became mayor. Ed would make it every morning and I guess the smell finally won me over."

"You two were pretty close. Were you ever…?" Jim trailed off, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Not that it's any of your business but no." Oswald scowled.

"Sorry I asked."

They sat awkwardly, and Oswald tried to take a few more sips without burning his tongue.

"Why is Jeremiah so obsessed with young Bruce Wayne?" He finally asked.

"I wish I knew, I thought it was an extension of Jerome's obsession, but it's gone beyond that I think." Jim shrugged and rubbed his eyes. "It's like he thinks Bruce is a part of him. He wants to get him to play. What's worse is I think he's succeeding."

"Why do you say that?"

Jim looked up at him and for a split-second Oswald recognized a lonely look in his eye. He wanted to tell someone something but couldn't. Instead he blinked and smiled another fake, tight smile. "It's nothing."

Oswald, not wanting to pry, accepted his response. Jim looked so small suddenly, like he had something heavy on his shoulders that was crushing him slowly over time. "I hope you catch that cretin, Jeremiah, sooner rather than later." He offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile. He had the impulse to put his hand over Jim's, now laying on the table, but ignored it.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day." Oswald asked absentmindedly as he fluffed his coat around him, finished his coffee and stood up. Jim Stood up as well.

"The usual, catching bad guys, putting them in Jail, trying to ship them over the river so they can't just break free." They both laughed at the absurdity.

"Why are you still here, Jim?" He asked suddenly. "This seems like a hopeless endeavor to me."

"I thought you like a challenge." Jim purred. Oswald's face felt warm. He realized the wall was directly behind him. He and Jim were close enough for the tips of their shoes to touch and there was nowhere for him to do.

"Challenges, not impossibilities." He huffed, grabbing his cane. Jim instinctively moved his hand to the right side of his belt. Oswald snickered. "If I wanted you dead why would I have waited until now?"

"Right. Old habits, sorry." Jim grimaced. His voice was so quiet.

Against his better judgment, Oswald lifted his hand to put it on Jim's offending arm. Looking him in the eyes he gently but firmly pushed it away. "You're forgiven." He breathed heavily. Jim's lids were heavy, and he nodded in response.

"I should let you get back to your important work, Detective Gordon." He smirked with more confidence than he had and brushed against Jim to get from in between him and the wall. Coming out of his mild stupor, Jim walked him to the door.

"We don't always have to wait." Jim said lamely.

"What?"

"We don't always have to wait the two weeks. If you know something sooner, come find me."

"Okay. I will." He paused in the doorway. "What if I don't know anything new?"

Jim looked a little startled, so Oswald quickly backtracked. "Dear Jim, relax. I will certainly come see you if I have anything new regarding Jeremiah."

He hurried to his car and drove away, leaving a slightly flustered Jim in his wake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: So I have to apologize because I wrote this too hastily and hadn't thought through what I wanted to do initially but now I've mapped out the story so this had to be re-written. Tonally it's a little less comedic and quick that it was originally which I think fits better. Anyway as of 11/7/2018 this chapter was rewritten. Thank you to anyone reading and hopefully you'll agree this fits better and helps the flow of the story as I continue.**

While it was true that the Riddler preferred to work alone, he didn't like being left out either. Currently he read on a park bench, trash and debris scattered around him, waiting for a certain redhead to come slinking into view.

"Nygma." Came a sultry voice. "Nice to see you, I guess."

As he stood his lips turned downward slightly but he attempted to recover from the slight with a grin. "Actually, it's the Riddler, but you already knew that."

"Sure. Sorry." She didn't sound sorry at all.

"How have you been?"

"Since when have you been interested in that?"

"It's considered polite to make small talk before jumping into serious conversation." He shrugged and pulled off his bowler hat.

"I've never considered myself to be a polite girl." She started into the park and he trailed behind, the density of the trees and bushes on the outside covered everything from view but inside was full of small house-like structures made from living trees and vines. He saw the shadows of what looked to be children running in and out of his view. It smelled amazing inside, fresh and sweet – nothing like perfume. It made him feel eerie calm despite the fact that it was dark in the mess of trees.

They walked into one of the larger structures where he saw a large flower, big enough to sit on, which is exactly what Ivy did. She motioned for him to sit on a smaller flower so he did. He was still smiling when she asked him what he wanted to meet for.

"I want to be partners." He said, trying to focus, but his head felt oddly cloudy.

She laughed, a light breathy giggle.

"Partners in what? Everything is a free for all. Rob whoever you want, kill whoever you want. Humans finally able to treat each other the way they've treated the Earth. It's quite poetic."

His smile turned to a grimace, but he flipped his hat back onto his head in a flourish. "I disappear every time you say my name – what am I?"

"Silence."

"So?"

"We've heard nothing about or from Valeska, Crane, or Tetch. They started of all this and now what – silence?" He shook his head. "They are out there planning something, obviously. Wouldn't you rather be ahead of it and gain than be behind and possibly be killed?"

"Who would bother me out here?" She gestured around. "I'm well protected from whatever is planned for that grotesque city unless he's planning on blowing this park up for no reason." She shook her head.

"Jeremiah Valeska is a maniac. Who's to say what or who he'll be trying to destroy?" He spoke quickly, waving his hands around in a way that seemed to amuse Ivy more that worry her. "I've already been turned down by Freeze and Firefly. Please." He added, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

"What about that little twerp, Penguin?"

Edward visibly stiffened. "Oswald? He is a last resort. Besides," he leaned in and whispered, "no one else has your particular…skill."

"What about your girlfriend, the 'Doc'?"

"Do you want to figure out what Jeremiah is planning or not?" He sneered, folding his arms and ignoring the question.

"I'll think about it." She shrugged.

"That's not a good enough answer. I need a commitment so I can work on a plan." He pushed.

"Then no."

He stood up angrily, and felt a prick on the back of his neck. His head swam even more than before.

"They really don't like you. I've never seen them so worked up without me being angry first." He saw one of the shadows step into the light and a small blonde girl came into view with a dart gun. She sat on Ivy's lap.

"That wasn't necessary Pamela. Give me the dart gun." The girl handed it to her and two more children can into the light before Edward was unconscious.

When he woke up again he was back on the same bench, head pounding. His glasses were neatly folded up next to his he put them on and looked back at the park, the entrance he had walked through just hours earlier was now completely gone, and a seamless wall of plants remained.

He walked in a huff, mind whirring, planning as always and undeterred by circumstance.

He stopped short when he saw Oswald, red faced, scurrying out of a lower level apartment and looking suspicious. He quickly ducked behind an abandoned car and looked through the windows to see Jim Gordon standing in the doorway, equally flushed.

 _If you have me, you want to share me. Once you share me, you won't have me. What am I?_

Oswald's car drove off, and Jim closed the door.

When the shock of seeing them both wore off he scowled a little, wondering what those two possibly had to talk about. Jim Gordon was as boring as a bag of rocks and certainly as smart as that same back of rocks. Irritably, he stood up and shook his head. What business was it of his anyway? They were probably playing the same cat and mouse game they always played. Jim promising to lock Oswald up (what a joke these days) and Oswald smirking up at him.

He continued his walk home, passing a few people on the streets trying to go about their day with normalcy. There was an old woman with a bag of groceries walking around in the rubble that littler the sidewalk. He probably would have been more taken with the juxtaposition if not for his foul mood.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I put this in the last chapter as well but I just wanted to update anyone who's past chapter 3 that it has been slightly rewritten (today 11/7/2018) to better fit what I have planned for this story. Thank you to anyone who is reading!**

It had been two months since Oswald and Jim made their little deal. Oswald's men gossiped about his noticeably better mood.

Two days before their next meeting a group of his men assigned to guard a shipment of weapons from the docks was robbed of a cargo crate filled with projectors and mustard gas. They braced themselves for a bloody ending when they arrived to tell him the news. He gave them an angry false smile, and shot Mike, the guy in charge of the whole thing, in the foot. The rest were screamed at and free to go. They tried to hide the shock on their faces as they left but looked behind them to make sure they weren't going to get picked off as they went.

Two days later he was dressed in a finely cut suit, hair brushed and framing his face almost prettily, and walking into Jim's apartment. Nathaniel, a replacement for Victor, noticed what looked like a little color on his lips and cheeks but of course remained silent and stoic in the car while Oswald limped inside. He would have preferred to be inside or at least right by the door but Oswald wouldn't allow it.

They had switched the meeting place a few times but Jim's apartment was the easiest. The GCPD was littered with soldiers from the outside, and Oswald's place was littered with thugs. Oswald's face lit up when Jim opened the door and let him inside. He sat on the worn couch and looked around Jim's familiarly sparse living room, putting his cane to the side.

After looking to make sure no one had followed Oswald, Jim closed the door and looked at the other man. He gave a small smile and nodded.

"Oswald. You look...well." His eyes seemed to flit to Oswald's lips a couple of times briefly but Oswald thought perhaps he was imagining it. "Can I get you anything?"

"Water is fine."

Jim grabbed a jug of water from the fridge and poured it into a chipped glass. He looked behind him and wiped another glass around the rim with his shirt quickly and poured himself some water also.

"Some colleague of mine, it isn't important who," he waved his hand before Jim could speak, "who imports certain items, was robbed." Oswald said after they had been sitting across from each other sipping water for a few minutes and making small talk. He put his hands on his knees and leaned in towards Jim like an excited child.

Jim looked at him blankly. "What?"

"The items that were stolen were traditionally used for chemical warfare." He continued in his usual husky voice. "One of the items had a tracking device." He grinned.

"So I suppose _your friend_ will be able to get his items back. How does this help with Jeremiah?"

"I've only met two criminals who used gas as a weapon in Gotham, Jim." He gave him a knowing look.

"Jerome Valeska and…" Jim muttered.

"Mr. Crane." Oswald filled in. "He has worked with Jeremiah in the past. If we can find him I'm confident that Jeremiah is close by."

Jim beamed at him suddenly and Oswald was practically brimming with pride. "You're amazing." It as the first real lead they had gotten on this thing. He shook his head at Oswald.

"Oh, you." He gestured in embarrassment and laughed. "Amazing is surely an overstatement- but I'll take the compliment." His face was a little red. He lifted his phone and smirked. "The device is at an abandoned warehouse a mere seven blocks from here."

Jim stood up, grabbed his jacket and tucked his gun into his holster before strapping it on himself.

"You coming?" He said and looked at Oswald earnestly. Oswald felt his stomach twist and grabbed his hand. He pulled himself up with Jim's help and Jim grabbed his cane for him.

"We can take my car if you want." He offered but Jim shook his head.

"You have a limo, too conspicuously. We'll have to take my car and I have the gun so you should drive."

Oswald stopped short. "Jim, I can't."

Jim turned around confused. "Why? Are you afraid? I have my weapon I'm not going to let anyone get to you." He gently put his hand on his holster under his jacket.

"No, Jim, I don't know how to drive." His mouth twisted into an embarrassed little pucker. "We can have Nathaniel drive."

"That works." Jim offered lamely. The heightened sense of momentum was oddly ruined but they both moved on from the subject quickly. Oswald wasn't sure why it had embarrassed him so much, and despite this dangerous thing they were about to do, his brain sat on the moment for longer than necessary, even while he and Jim directed Nathaniel to drive and they all piled into Jim's beat up little car and Oswald read the directions to the warehouse.

They parked about a block away and Oswald's thoughts were brought back to the present with a click of a gun. Nathaniel handed him one and loaded his own. They all got out and the adrenaline seem to keep the pain from Oswald's bad leg at bay, his cane left forgotten in the car.

They got to the building and walked slowly, guns in the air. Their noses were nipped by the cold, each one's nose was starting to get a little red but Oswald's was getting the worst of it. Their breath came out in silent clouds of fog.

There was a scrambling clattering noises from inside, heard through a broken window and the sound of gun shots. Jim yelled for Nathaniel to run upstairs and he would try to cut them off in the back. Oswald heard a fire escape ladder and followed Jim towards it. They saw Crane dressed in his rags sprinting towards a white van. Oswald stopped, knowing he wasn't going to make it, and noticed the faint trace of a logo that has been scrubbed off or painted over. When he looked back at the window, he made eye contact with Crane. It all happened in the span of 5 seconds before the van sped off, wheels squealing.

Jim kept running toward them to the end of the alleyway and turned around. He heard a shot and looked up to see a man fall from the top story of the building. Oswald gasped when the body hit the ground and covered his mouth with a gloved hand, shaking.

Jim looked away grimacing and Nathaniel came walking into the alleyway from the outside.

"Sniper." He said gesturing toward what was left of the body on the ground.

"Damn it." Jim growled through gritted teeth. "They had a lookout."


	5. Chapter 5

Oswald was waiting on Jim's back porch, preening and primping his hair and fur-collared coat. Jim was late, to a meeting at his own apartment no less, but Oswald always found an unlikely softness for the detective that he just couldn't muster up for anyone else.

Well, anyone except Edward of course, but he hadn't seen him since he found the lovesick idiot dead on the floor and bleeding out next to his queen of the Narrows.

With some time to kill Oswald let his thoughts wander to a place of impossibility. He thought about the similarities between himself and Doc Thompkins. First he noted the physical similarities, dark hair and an affinity for purple, then their respective power grabs, and finally their initial friendship with Ed.

Oswald liked to think that somewhere, subconsciously, Ed had fallen for her for those reasons. Lee and Ed's relationship seemed too similar to the days of Ed's midnight wine confessions to Oswald that he "saw him for who he was". Ed was Oswald's right hand man, desperate for his approval and affection and when Oswald saw him puppy-dogging around Lee in the same way he felt a tug of familiarity in his chest. She even manipulated him and even Ed himself knew it. Lee was nothing like the late Kristin Kringle or Isabelle. He sneered a little at the idea.

A final similarity came to break him out of his reverie.

"Oswald, sorry I'm so late." Jim said, waving some papers in the air. "The tests from Crane's makeshift chemistry lab."

Oswald stood up from his perch on Jim's lone plastic porch chair.

"It's not a problem, though I am a little chilly." He rubbed his hands together. "Can we go inside?"

Jim nodded and unlocked the back door, Oswald scurried in the escape the cold.

The poured over the papers together, Jim adding what Lucious Fox had explained to him in dribs and drabs as they progressed. Oswald didn't have to worry about being cold as he became increasingly aware of their legs touching innocently on the couch, and Jim leaned into him to point out certain pieces of information on a document that Oswald had no chance of understanding. Still, he nodded along because the smell of Jim's cologne was intoxicating-

"So what do you think?" Jim cut in.

Oswald opened his mouth, stuttering awkwardly. A blush bloomed on his face as he realized he had been daydreaming and couldn't remember a word Jim just said.

"To be honest, Jim, I'm not quite versed in the realm of science. I truly don't think I can be of any help here." He admitted with a sigh.

"Me either." Jim rubbed his hands over his face absently. "Any ideas on where we can get the information Lucius needs?"

"Don't you have some sort of database for that? Archives or just the internet?"

Jim shook his head. "All damaged in the first few explosions. We only have radio communications now, and even those are fuzzy."

Oswald bit the inside of his cheek in thought.

"What information exactly does he need? Maybe I know someone." He offered earnestly. He did love feeling useful, and Jim scratched that itch quite well.

"He's looking for common uses for these chemicals." He gesture to the pages, now scattered on the table. "Some of them he recognizes from the fear toxin, but it's not the same gas Jerome wanted to use, and it's not exactly the same as the fear gas either."

Oswald examined the papers a little more carefully.

"The library?" he offered lamely.

"That's actually a good idea, but t's dangerous territory. I could go alone but it would be too hard to research and keep an eye out." His mouth pressed into a tight little line. "I can keep lookout while Lucius-"He stopped when Oswald lifted a hand and smiled.

"I'll do the research, you man the gun. It's an obvious decision."

"Oswald, you are technically a civilian. I already put you in danger last time when we were apprehending Crane. It's over and above our deal."

"A deal for which I cannot uphold my end today." Oswald sputtered hurriedly, standing as well. "I have no new information but perhaps I can assist in another way." He let the statement linger in the air, Jim's ears felt a little hot at the implication but Oswald quickly corrected. "I'm perfectly capable of both protecting myself physically and matching words in a book, Jim." He huffed.

Jim hesitated for a few minutes, pondering over his options. On the one hand, law and order had no real place in this Gotham, and on the other he was getting too chummy with Oswald, relying on him for ideas he could easily come to on his own if he put some effort in. Jim wasn't an idiot, he know exactly why he kept coming back to Oswald, hoping he had information, and it wasn't exclusively to catch Jeremiah.

Slowly, Jim nodded in acceptance.

"Today?" Oswald asked, looking a little pleased and nervous at the same time.

"No, I need to survey the area first. I don't want to run into any danger like last time. This should be a quick and easy trip." Oswald huffed in response.

"Jim, this is what I have lackey's for. Let them survey and they'll be able to give us the go-ahead in a matter of hours." He bragged.

Jim really didn't like the idea of relying on even more criminals but he knew Oswald's men were top notch. The GCPD was mainly in survival mode, and the outside help more focused on bringing in supplies and trying to rebuild infrastructure. He really didn't have the men to spare.

"Okay, make the call." He gave in reluctantly.

Oswald grinned his sly little grin and picked up the phone. After he gave the order they were both left standing in Jim's living room awkwardly. Oswald's eyes were wild and exciting, the way that had always been when Jim saw him climbing slowly to the top of Gotham's underworld.

 **Author's Note: You may have to suspend belief a little when it comes to Scarecrow's chemical weapons. I tried to do some research but I'm not a scientist by any means so I'm going to just leave out specifics so it doesn't pull anyone out of the story if incorrect.**


	6. Chapter 6

Oswald had always loved the Gotham City Library. When he was a child his mom would bring him on Saturdays and they would browse through and pick out two books each time. One for him and one for her. She would make him read the one he picked out to her in the afternoon while she cleaned, and tell him what a smart boy he was for knowing how to read so well even when he mispronounced something. She would always pick something Hungarian and read it to him at night which always put him to sleep.

That was something she had actually continued to do well into his adulthood on nights when he couldn't sleep. When he was recovering and mourning her death in Edward's care, he shared this story among many other things he probably shouldn't have shared. One sleepless night Edward popped up from the couch and said he could hear Oswald twisting and turning. Oswald mumbled that he was sorry to have woken him and protested when he heard Edward shuffle across the small space between the couch and bed. When he flipped on the light, Oswald had tucked his head under the covers in disapproval and heard some fumbling around on the bookshelf. Of course Ed had a book in Hungarian. Of course he knew how to read it too. His voice was soft, and despite his mispronunciation of some of the words, Oswald fell asleep in about 20 minutes. In their brief time living in the mansion together, Oswald would knock on Edward's door when he saw the light on inside still and Ed would wordlessly follow him to his room, sit on the bed next to him and read The Paul Street Boys to him again until they both fell asleep.

He smiled softly, sadly, while looking out of the window. The sky was gray, it was always so gray it never felt like it ever truly because daytime. He remembered how the old books of the library smelled, how every pillar outside and inside seemed to be so proud and intricate, he remembered the sun shining through the windows of it, making everything glow with warmth. His mother, Edward, and the sun had all left him now.

"We're here." Jim placed a hand on his arm tenderly.

Remembering his cane this time, he accepted Jim's helping hand to get out the car. Jim steeled himself, looking around alertly. They quickly walked to an old fire escape door, forgoing the beautiful heavy front doors for the secrecy of a side entrance. Oswald looked around the library in disappointment. He almost expected it to look the same despite logic preparing him for the reality. The thick coat of dust and even a few cobwebs seemed to billow up with every step they took. The dull light from outside seemed to barely illuminate everything. Torn books and crumpled paper were thrown in corners, and everything smelled damp.

They moved very slowly, eyes and ears peeled for the possibility of a threat. In the middle of the library they were seeing less trash and dust, until they finally found a whole room-sized area of clean tables and books piled on them still intact. Jim nodded toward the books and a collection of candles on another table nearby.

"We're not alone." He whispered. Oswald nodded in agreement.

"Maybe they stepped out?" He offered, half hoping. He wanted to go smoothly.

"The candle wax is still drying, so doubtful." Jim shrugged. "That's why we came together. We knew this was a possibility." He took a match out of his pants pocket and handled it to Oswald.

"You sure I should?" Oswald hesitated, Jim gave him the go-ahead. "Anyone who was going to kill us would've have done it by now. They probably just want us to hurry up and go." He pointed the gun around the room, while Oswald lit a few of the candles.

"How will I know where to find the relevant books?" Oswald asked, suddenly realizing they hadn't thought this through. He laid the papers they had been looking at earlier out on the table. They both looked around, a little lost for a minute.

"Looks like we have luck on our side." Jim pointed to one of the books in the stack. "Not sure if this will help but it's a good start." Oswald grabbed it from the pile.

"A Brief History of Weapons – Chemical and Mechanical." Oswald laughed quietly. "Fortune really does favor the bold. We're just going to take everything that might be useful to Mr. Fox right?" He opened the book to the index at the end, seeing many matches to the documents they had brought.

Jim nodded and sat down. Oswald looked at him surprised.

"This might go faster if I help, actually. I can move quick if need be, but we've been sitting here with a lit candle for a few minutes and no one has shot us yet." He gave Oswald a wry smile.

"Well, you are the expert, Detective." Oswald smirked back at him, feeling very at ease despite the fact that this was unknown territory.

The poured over the books on the table for close to an hour, stacking up the ones with any mention of the chemicals in Crane's new concoction. With the candlelight and their close proximity to each other it was almost romantic, at least that's what Oswald felt when he reached across Jim to get the next book and looked into Jim's eyes playfully.

"I could hand you the books, you know." Jim raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know." Oswald said unconcerned.

Jim shifted in his seat, suddenly aware of how nice Oswald looked again today. His eyes lingered on Oswald's glinting eyes in the candlelight before slowing moving down the slope of his nose, getting to his soft lips pressed together firmly while he concentrated.

"I think that's it for this pile. We have quite a few books. That should be enough to help Lucius get started. Good work Oswald."

"Maybe _I_ should have been a detective too." Oswald half-teased.

"I think you could've been. You're smart Oswald, I've always thought that." Jim said. "It's a shame you chose to use your talents to oppose the law."

Oswald frowned a little. "I like to think of myself as helping promote law and order, just not in the way the corrupt city officials did before."

"I don't want to argue with you in the middle of dangerous task." Jim frowned back.

"So now it's dangerous again?" Oswald found himself snickering. "Just seconds ago we were flirting but I guess everything happens on your terms, right Jim?" He pulled out a large canvas bag and began aggressively shoving the books into it.

"What?" Jim asked, taken aback. "Flirting? I wasn't-"

"Let's stop playing this game Jim." Oswald said bluntly while he stopped putting the books in the bag and stared at the table. The candle started to flicker. "I think you know that I care for you, and I think you use it to your advantage while you judge me for being a criminal."

"I would never use something like that against you." Jim's brow furrowed. "I didn't know you cared in that way." Jim spoke slowly and carefully but it was obvious he felt a little awkward.

The realization of what he had confessed to hit Oswald and he looked at Jim hurriedly, trying to backpedal.

"It's just, I think we are close friends and then you remind me how little you think of me. That's all I mean." His heart was racing at the idea of being rejected again, he hoped Jim would let him have his dignity and accept the lie.

Jim looked a little hurt but nodded. "Right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you Oswald." He laid his hand on Oswald's shoulder. "I apologize."

Oswald nodded and forced an uncomfortable smile. "Please forgive me for my outburst." He felt suddenly cold and nauseous.

All the candles went out at once. By the time their eyes adjusted to the much dimmer light, the bag and the file were both gone.

"Well, that was uncomfortable for me to _listen_ to. I can't imagine how awkward it must have been to actually experience it." Came a booming sarcastic voice. Oswald and Jim stood up quickly, the former pulling his knife from his cane and the latter pulling out his gun and pointing it towards the voice.

"Then again, I can certainly empathize with you Jim." Edward strutted out from behind a bookshelf, grinning. "Having been on the end of an unexpected declaration of love from Oswald myself."


End file.
